


The Odds Were Never In Their Favor

by KayleeArafinwiel



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Gen, lots and lots of death eventually (but nothing too bad I think), this is the Hunger Games of course there is death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bits and pieces about the other tributes of the 74th Hunger Games. Other reapings, other POVs of death scenes, and such. Each of the 22 "other tributes" of the 74th Hunger Games had a home. They had families. They had feelings. These things didn't matter for the Games. They couldn't. Or did they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Very First Reaping of the 74th Hunger Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marta/gifts).



> We aren't told the last names (or even the FIRST names!) of some of the tributes, so I will take some liberties with names and relationships - hopefully not outlandish ones. Thanks!

_We’ve been trained for this nearly all of our lives._ Ever since we were old enough to know which end of a weapon was which, I think. So no, I’m not nervous. In fact, I’m proud to stand up before my District, my name called for all to hear. I’ve been waiting for this, every year since I turned twelve, five years ago. Too slow to volunteer, I think, disgusted with myself, but now – now it’s my turn. Next year would be my last chance.

I’m going to take it now. I didn’t have to volunteer. Before anyone can accuse me of shirking, I flounce up on stage with a toss of my golden hair. Glimmer Everwhite. That’s who I am, that’s who I will ever be.

May the odds ever be in my favour. They will be – I think, until I hear the boy’s name.

“Marvel Everwhite!”

Mentally, I freeze, though I don’t dare cry. My heart skips a beat; I’m ashamed. No one moves; he joins me on stage, his jaw set, his eyes sparkling, my beloved twin.

Our hands find each other.

“Sister,” he whispers.

“Brother.” Just as softly.

_I can love you – until the horn sounds._


	2. Together No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least he wasn't the one who did it. But the loss would gnaw at him for the rest of his life - however long that might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention now, if it wasn't obvious, that there will be SPOILERS for *all* of the book The Hunger Games in this drabble series, "The Odds Were Never In Their Favor"...oh and disclaim that Suzanne Collins wrote the book, I am not making any money from this whatsoever.

I wake to hear a faint noise far above me. Katniss, the girl from District Twelve, is doing…something. It’s the middle of the night and I can’t quite make it out. Next to me, Glimmer stirs slightly and I touch her arm, hushing her before she can even speak. She’s listening intently, I know. Above us, we hear a faint hum, a soft buzzing.

It gets much louder very quickly, when a sudden crash brings a hive down nearly right on top of us. Tracker jackers! We’re all awake, and most of us bolt automatically. When I finally stop running, I turn around, grateful to have been fast enough to escape the stings.

“We made it, Glimmer!” I say joyously, but there’s no answering laugh, and suddenly it feels like half my heart’s been ripped out.

“Glimmer?”

I’m alone – and the cannon fires.

_Girl on Fire – you’re going to die._

 


	3. Here At The End of All Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too bad for Marvel that just as he killed the little girl, the Girl on Fire was waiting for him…but is it so bad, really? (Triple drabble – 300 words)
> 
> Disclaimer: Some of the dialogue is lifted straight from the book The Hunger Games, and I do not own it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've decided that now I'm done (apparently) with District One, I'll be doing District Two next, then Three, etc., so I'll either have to move chapters around to make them chronological to the book, or have each District be separate. What do you think is best - to keep the character arcs together or make the whole thing chronological?

I’ve caught her in the net. The little girl from Eleven, what’s her name, _Rue,_ no, I won’t call her by her name _–_ that little butterfly-girl, so fast on her feet. She was in alliance with the Girl on Fire. I say _was,_ because while Rue’s alive now, she won’t be long. I pull out my spear and get ready for the throw. _Oh, you’ll die in pain, poor little butterfly,_ I think mockingly. _My spear will cut you in half. And then the Girl on Fire will learn what it’s like to lose someone she loves for really and true._

“Katniss! Katniss!” the butterfly-girl screams, and I hear a distant shout.

 

 _“Rue! I’m coming!”_ So much the better, Girl on Fire. Watch your “little sister” die. Just as you watched mine when _you killed her._

As the Everdeen girl, the Girl on Fire, bursts through the trees, I throw the spear. I don’t miss. Of course not; I never miss.

 

 _Have a nice death, little butterfly,_ I think mockingly. She gurgles, “Katniss…” and then all _I_ feel is pain.

 

 _Glimmer’s arrows!_ I yank it from my neck in shock, reflexively, and the pain sears me, gasping, bleeding… _drowning_ in my own blood. The arrow _is_ Glimmer’s…she _stole_ that bow!

 

 _Hold on, Glimmer,_ I think, before the red tide of pain sweeps in. _I’m coming._

Somewhere, someone is singing.

 

Bright light surrounds me; I open my eyes. I’m a little boy again, I realise – free of care, like I was before I ever held a weapon. There’s little Glimmer, holding her hands out to me. I take them; together we run off into the woods. District One fades from memory, as we join the throng of innocents.

 

For us, the Hunger Games are over.

 

For us, death is a new beginning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, from here on out I'll be making up a lot of names/histories. I'll check the names of any other tributes from the same District to see if there's a pattern I can use. But I'll be sticking as closely to canon as possible - Please feel free to correct me (not flame me, I'd rather this not be The Story That Was On Fire *snicker*) if I err or make silly assumptions. Thanks.


	4. The Train From District Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The District Two tributes get to know each other after the Reaping.

_Cato Petrarch,_ I think. What a stupid name. I snort derisively as the boy circles me, sizing me up. “So. Cato,” I say casually, as the train carries us to our destinies. “Who was that you volunteered for?” Cato wasn’t the original tribute called, obviously. No, District Two’s tributes almost always volunteer in place of the originals.

 

“My cousin, Brutus,” Cato says shortly. Not very talkative, then. “He’s thirteen.” I don’t have friends. They’re no use.

 

“Right.” I stare coolly at him. “I’m thirteen.” His eyebrows go up, and he studies me with even more interest.

 

“So you volunteered?” he asks. _Of course I did, you were there, don’t be daft,_ I think. He seems impressed as I say “Yes,” like it doesn’t matter.

 

“Bit young for it?” he presses. I snort. _What are you, thickheaded as well as thick muscled?_

 

“I’ve been using throwing knives since I was four,” I tell him shortly. “Don’t count me out.”

 

His face splits into a grin. He actually looks… _nice,_ now he’s not seeming so slow-witted. _Cato Petrarch and Clove Flintlock,_ I think. _Well, we are Careers after all._

 

“Oh, I won’t, Clove,” he says. “I like a little spice in my life.”

 


	5. Friends on the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clove had no time to react...

Clove had barely had time to see Eleven – _Thresh,_ she thought dimly – coming for her. The boy was built like a wall of solid muscle. _He’d have made a good Career,_ she thinks, despite the fact that he’s, well, _District Eleven,_ a farm boy, a nobody. Like the little girl…

 

Like the little girl Marvel killed.

 

And Clove had been taunting Twelve about minutes before.

 

She doesn’t have time to think any longer before the first blow comes. Dimly, she realizes Eleven has slammed her into the Cornucopia. _Why hadn’t she reacted in time –_ and she realizes she didn’t remember her training, she _let herself get distracted._ But he’s got her now, it’s too late, blows raining down, punches, slamming her again and again, she’s only thirteen, she’s too young to –

 

_Too young to die?_

The Gamemakers certainly don’t think so. _Eleven_ certainly doesn’t think so. And she’s only a year older than the butterfly girl.

 

A haze of red has enveloped her by now. Pain, that’s all that’s left, pure and simple. No room for thought. No room for defense. She’s been quick, she’s been clever, but Thresh is _all muscle,_ and there’s no fighting _that._

_I’m sorry, Cato – perhaps I’ll see you on the other side._

And she does, sooner than she’d like. She’d hoped he would win. For her.

 

But it wasn’t to be, and now District Two are together again. Clove embraces Cato; here, they’re tributes no more. The Capitol is powerless on the other side.


	6. The Last Death of the 74th Hunger Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last death of the 74th Hunger Games was a mercy kill. But before he died, Cato had time to reflect on his last few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last *death*. Not the last chapter of the story. I'm going in district order, still, rather than chronologically, since no one's asked me to do otherwise. :)

They’re coming. The muttations.

 

I barely escaped them before, and it’s just because of the body armor I’m wearing. But as I climb the Cornucopia, they get nearer and nearer. I’m finding it hard to breathe. There’s blood everywhere.

 

The Girl on Fire tried to make an end of me. She failed. If she tried again, I’d bring down Lover Boy, too. As I grip the boy from Twelve in a headlock, he’s doing something with my blood…

 

Twelve’s Lover Boy. He’s not much of a killer. Though he did finish off District Eight’s little girl. Thirteen, she was. Like Clove.

 

But Eight wasn’t like Clove. She was stupid. Making a fire to lead us to her? She deserved to die.

 

Clove was smart. Running from the tracker jacker stings. She was fast. Like me. We didn’t die like poor Glimmer – Marvel was inconsolable, after that. But it was Eleven who killed Clove.

 

You want to lose your Lover Boy, Girl on Fire? Shoot me, then. I’ll go wherever Clove’s gone. And he’ll go with me.

 

No – she shoots my _hand._ I let go of Twelve – I let go of the Cornucopia. The muttations rush up to meet me.

 

Pain. That’s all that’s left. Pain, and agony. I howl, ashamed that I can’t stand this. I’m a Career, I should have an honorable death. Not… _this._ It feels like days, but it must only be hours. _Only._ I would laugh if I could. The hours pass slowly. Flesh is ripped from me, my body armor useless.

I find her eyes, lock them with mine. _Please._ “Please…”

 

Her aim is true, the arrow swift. Darkness. I know no more – until I wake in the meadow, with Clove’s hands in mine. In death, we can be together, innocent children for the first time.


	7. An Unseen Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tributes from District Three are Reaped.

 

 

“Alberta Lovelace!”

 

No one volunteers for Alberta – Ada, as she prefers. District Three are technicians, engineers. They have brilliant minds, but they build the luxuries for the Capitol, for Districts One and Two. They don’t have the luxuries themselves. Ada is tall and lean; but her growth is attributed to good genes, not good food. She’s had to live on tesserae, and it’s a miracle the sixteen-year-old has survived the factory this long, much less survived the Reaping.

 

Ada obeys the call slowly – not enough to seem disobedient. She can’t help being scared. Still, District Three has had victors before.

 

The boy’s name, next. Ada looks out over the crowd, watching, waiting.

 

“Ambrose Turing!”

 

The boy joins her on the stage. He’s scared, too, she can feel it. But he’s determined, too. He’s going to win, she thinks, because he has to win.

 

Even if that means she has to die.

 

Will he kill her?

 

He shakes his head, just the slightest bit, and an unseen spark flies between them.

 

 _You’re safe from me,_ he’s saying. She appreciates that, at least.

 

“Fight well, Alberta,” he says later, on the train.

 

“It’s Ada. Fight well, Ambrose,” Ada replies.

 

“I will, Ada.”


	8. A Spark Ignited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ada's Games ended before they had a chance to begin.

_"I will, Ambrose."_ That promise echoes in my head as I reach numbly for the arrow through my throat. I'm drowning in my own blood, my vision blurring. There's an arrow in my stomach, too. It was the girl from District One. She shot me as soon as she could nock the arrows to her bow - the bow we all knew was meant for Katniss Everdeen.

 

The Girl On Fire.

 

I know something about fire. And the fire coursing through my veins has its own special electricity, a spark igniting something, somewhere. Where will it end? I don't know.

 

But for me, here, it ends by the Cornucopia, before it's hardly begun.

 

_I'm sorry, Ambrose._

 

_Fight well._

 

He will. And perhaps he'll win.


End file.
